


every morning the maple leaves.

by parrishsrubberplant (genus_species)



Series: build me up from bones [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Spring C, booty shorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-03-24 22:55:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13821204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genus_species/pseuds/parrishsrubberplant
Summary: It's ridiculous how falling in love changes your writing.





	1. Chapter 1

Nursey expected that Dex’s freckles would disappear when he blushes, but instead they stand out even more sharply against his flushed skin. 

Nursey has noticed a disturbing trend in his poetry. Even though it’s nearly spring, his poems have fall in them. Orange, autumn, falling leaves.

Growth, he thinks, newness, snowdrops, rain. He glances over. The cafeteria lights shine off Dex’s hair. He didn’t brush it thoroughly this morning and he has at least four cowlicks.

“Really?” Chowder says.

Dex looks away, laughing. “So?”

Nursey pulls his mind back to the thread of their earlier conversation. _Spring C, that’s right._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Chowder suggests that the Frogs wear booty shorts to Spring C.

Nursey expected that Dex’s freckles would disappear when he blushes, but instead they stand out even more sharply against his flushed skin. 

Nursey has noticed a disturbing trend in his poetry. Even though it’s nearly spring, his poems have fall in them. Orange, autumn, falling leaves. Growth, newness, snowdrops, rain, he thinks, but that isn’t what he wants to write about. The cafeteria lights shine off Dex’s hair. He didn’t brush it thoroughly this morning and he has at least four cowlicks.

“Really?” Chowder says.

Dex looks away, laughing. “So?”

Nursey pulls his mind back to the thread of their earlier conversation. _Spring C, that’s right._

Chowder elbows Dex. “What are you wearing?”

Dex shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Nursey pictures Dex in spandex shorts and has to look away. Quit perving on your teammate, he tells himself. “You should wear booty shorts,” he says. _Great job, Nurse. Way to maintain that brain-to-mouth filter._

Dex goes red.

Chowder eyes Dex speculatively. “You could, you know. You’ve got a great ass.”

Dex laughs uncomfortably. “Thanks, C.”

“No, I mean it,” Chowder says. “Right, Nursey?”

“Mine’s better,” Nursey says. Oh god. Why can’t he rein in his hypercompetitiveness, even just for today? He concentrates on stirring the perfect amount of sugar into his coffee before he says anything else unfortunate. Like correcting his mistake, and saying that Dex does have a great ass. Even though it’s true.

“Oh good,” Dex says. “Then you wear the booty shorts for Spring C.” 

Nursey is obscurely proud of Dex for managing to say ‘booty shorts’ without stuttering. However, the sheer amount of uncomfortable blushing that’s happening right now is making him reconsider his life and his choices.

Dex cuts his pancakes into even strips and then forks a piece into his mouth.

“Ooh, team costume!” Chowder says. He smiles like he’s come up with a brilliant idea. “I’ll wear short-shorts too, if you both do too.”

Dex coughs. He thumps his chest, finishes chewing his mouthful, and swallows audibly. “C, not all of us love our bodies as much as you do.”

Chowder shrugs. “You get that you’re objectively hot, right?”

“You have a girlfriend,” Dex says. He eats another strip of his pancake.

“I know,” Chowder says. He sounds mildly annoyed. “I’m not _blind,_ though.”

Nursey shoves a strawberry into his mouth. He chews. The color in Dex’s face is starting to fade a bit. 

Dex runs his fingers through his hair. This fixes one of his cowlicks, but two more spring to life. Nursey’s fingers itch to fix his hair. “Okay,” Dex says. “I’ll do it if you do it.”

It’s Nursey’s turn to choke on his food. Now he has both Dex and Chowder staring at him challengingly. “All right,” Nursey says. “I’m in.”

* * *

Chowder orders the shorts online. His have a pattern of tiny sharks. He picks out pairs for Nursey and Dex in the same background color: Nursey’s have a pattern of tiny fountain pens; Dex’s have a pattern of tiny hammers.

They arrive at the Haus three days before Spring C. Chowder removes them reverently from the packaging. “Damn, these look great.”

Bitty turns around from the kitchen sink. “Hmm?”

“Outfits for Spring C,” Chowder says. “We’re wearing shorts.”

Bitty’s pale eyebrows disappear towards his hairline. “Shorts,” he says.

Nursey starts to smirk. 

“Short-shorts,” Chowder clarifies.

Dex walks into the kitchen and places his backpack on the floor by the table. “Hey guys.”

“How was class?” Bitty asks.

Dex walks to the sink and looks at the pile of dishes. “It was all right. You want help with these?”

“Sure,” Bitty says.

Dex picks up the sponge and turns on the water. Chowder picks up his shorts from the table and waves them at him. “Dex, look what came in the mail!” 

Dex turns around and stops in front of the sink. His mouth is hanging open. He shuts it and turns back to the dishes without saying anything. Nursey tries and fails to muffle his laughter. Dex mutters something that sounds like, “absolutely no place to hide.”

“Well,” Bitty says. “I’m looking forward to the concert.” It’s amazing how dirty he makes it sound despite his genteel accent.

Nursey picks up his shorts. They really are tiny. “C., how much do I owe you?”

“Thirty,” Chowder says.

“Cool, I’ll Venmo you. Thanks for getting these, by the way.” Nursey takes out his phone and pays Chowder. “I’m going to go try these on.”

Dex drops a spoon into the sink with a clatter. 

Nursey goes into the downstairs bathroom. He unbuckles his belt and takes off his jeans and briefs. He looks at the shorts. At least they’re lined. He pulls the shorts on. ...they don’t cover very much. Like, he has definitely worn shorter things in his life. Not by much, and not while he wasn’t running away fast enough to have plausible deniability, but still.

Chowder taps on the bathroom door. “How are they?”

“They fit,” Nursey says. He adjusts himself and opens the door.

Chowder whistles. _“Nice.”_

“Show us!” Bitty calls from the kitchen. “If you want. No pressure.”

Nursey gathers the loose fabric of his shirt to the side, bunching it like he’s a schoolgirl in a Britney Spears music video. Dex is arranging wet plates in the dish drainer when Nursey walks into the kitchen.

“Wow,” Bitty says. 

“Good wow, I hope,” Nursey says. Dex still hasn’t turned around. He turns the forks so they’re facing tines-up, and dries off a chef’s knife. 

“Good wow,” Bitty says. “I wish I had y’all’s confidence.”

“You should totally join us,” Chowder says.

Bitty shrugs. “I have another outfit planned, but thank you.”

Dex turns around. His eyes flick up and down.

“Good?” Nursey asks.

Dex blinks, and keeps his eyes fixed on Nursey’s face. “They fit,” he says.

Nursey rests his hand on his hip bone and juts out his hip. “You didn’t even look,” he says.

Dex’s eyes dart around the kitchen. “I looked,” he says.

Chowder claps Nursey on the back. “You look great,” he says.

Dex picks up his own shorts. “I’ll go and try mine on?” He disappears from the kitchen before the other three can react. Nursey hears him climbing the stairs.

Bitty is typing into his phone. “I’m asking Jack if I’m a bad person if I ogle all three of you,” he says. A moment later he looks up, grinning. “He says it’s not bad if I send pictures.”

Nursey makes a face. “Tell him to come to Spring C and see for himself.” He tugs the hem of the shorts down. “God, these really are short.” He whacks the back of Chowder’s head lightly. “C, have you tried them on?”

Chowder grins, and holds up his phone. “Yep, and I sent Cait a picture. Want to see?”

“We don’t need to know more about your sex life,” Nursey says, as Dex comes back into the kitchen.

Chowder whistles. “Damn, Dex!”

Dex buries his face in his hands. 

“Can I give you a hug?” Bitty asks. “I kind of feel like you need a hug.”

Nursey takes the opportunity, to give Dex a onceover while Dex’s face is safely hidden in Bitty’s shoulder. His thighs are huge, dusted with red hair. Objectively speaking, Chowder probably has a better hockey ass--but all hockey asses are good, if Nursey’s being honest. Dex’s ass is no exception.

Dex lowers his hands just as Nursey yanks his eyes away from the front of his shorts. _Stop staring at the outline of your teammate’s dick._

Dex accepts a hug from Bitty. He picks nervously at the hem of his shorts. “I feel really self-concious right now.”

“We can tell,” Nursey says drily.

“Just because we aren’t all confident Adonises like you and Chowder,” Dex fires back. But he does stand up straighter and put his shoulders back. He looks even hotter when he’s standing up straight. Nursey is so fucked.

“Okay,” Dex says. “Now that I’ve been objectified enough for one day, I’m going to go take these off.”

Nursey can’t help imagining peeling Dex’s shorts off with his teeth and has to leave the kitchen in a hurry.

* * *

Nursey’s happy about the bands for Spring C. One of them is a (he admits to himself) indie hipster band that he knows from Soundcloud. The other is group that Chowder knows. The third band, none of them recognize, but Nursey looks them up. Most of their songs are fast and breathless, not his preferred kind of listening music. They’ll probably be good to dance to drunk, though.

He takes a bottle of vodka down from the kitchen cupboard and does a shot before he puts on the shorts. Dex salutes him with his beer bottle. “Liquid courage?”

Nursey shrugs. “Nah, just getting in the mood.” He watches Dex’s throat work as he swallows. He has to ask. “Are you okay with this?”

Dex nods. “Yeah, actually.” He shrugs. “I just--I don’t...I don’t dress like that, normally. I’m not used to thinking of myself as having...assets.” He takes another sip.

“Believe it,” Nursey says, possibly too fervently.

Dex laughs. “Kind of you,” he says. “I’m going to go change.”

Nursey wears the shorts and a neon yellow muscle tee. Dex comes down the stairs in shorts and flip flops and an old, worn band t-shirt that he’s hacked up to make a crop top. He has freckles on his stomach and a trail of hair leads down from his navel. 

Chowder bounds into the kitchen. He’s wearing the shorts and body paint. Nursey and Dex stare at him. 

Chowder shrugs easily. “Cait did it, isn’t it great?”

“Don’t want to hear about your sex life,” they say at the same time, automatically. Dex presses his hand to his mouth to try to hide his giggles. They leak out anyway. It’s adorable.

“Come on,” Nursey says, “Let’s go and get a good spot.”

Bitty has a sheet spread out already, anchored at one corner by a picnic basket. Most of the hockey team is sitting on the sheet already. Bitty is wearing sunglasses and eating a mini pie. He holds up a bottle of sunscreen. “Safety first.”

“Oh my god,” Dex mutters under his breath, but he takes the bottle and applies sunscreen to his skin. He doesn’t forget his stomach, either. 

Dex hands the bottle to Nursey, who applies sunscreen to himself and then passes the bottle to Chowder.

Chowder looks sadly at his phone. “I just realized,” he says mournfully. “I have no place to put my phone. I really hope Cait brought her purse.” Bitty laughs.

“I didn’t bring my phone,” Nursey says.

“Me neither.” Dex tugs his shorts down. “I don’t want to lose it.”

“You? You’re too responsible,” Nursey says.

Dex beckons him closer. “I’m about halfway to shitfaced,” he says in Nursey’s ear.

“Do I need to look out for you?” Nursey asks. He’s a little drunk himself, but he’s still capable of taking care of Dex. Definitely.

Dex shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

Ollie and Wicks show up with a cooler of beers, and the opening act (a student band, Nursey thinks he knows the bassist from one of his poetry workshops) begins to play. Dex sits down on the corner of the sheet.

His thighs are even more enormous sitting down. Nursey sits next to him and tries not to stare.

By the second band, they’re on their feet and dancing. Chowder dances with Cait, his hands curved around her hips. Nursey and Dex dance next to them.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you dance in public,” Nursey says in Dex’s ear.

Dex shrugs. He puts his hand on Nursey’s shoulder and leans in to talk. “To quote Jack, or was it Holster? Spring C is full of mystery.”

There’s a weird moment of too-intense eye contact between them. Nursey looks away. Dex’s hand slides down his arm. It’s the kind of touch that could be accidental or could be intentional. Nursey steps away and checks the cooler. Empty. 

He grabs Ollie’s elbow. “We’re out of beer.”

“Oh?” Ollie leans over and checks. “Shit, we are.”

“I’ll get more,” Dex says. “There’s one more band, right?”

Ollie nods. 

“I’ll help,” Nursey says, quickly. He’s from New York, he should be used to this, but suddenly the press of the crowd feels like too much.

Dex picks up the cooler and balances it on his head. They thread their way through the crowd together.

The noise level drops appreciably as they leave the quad. “Whew,” Nursey says.

Dex smiles. “You, too?”

Nursey shrugs. “It’s loud. Do you need me to carry that?”

“No, I’m good. You can help on the way back.” Dex hums, the last song the band played. He’s not half bad; the tune is recognizable. They turn onto Jason St. Dex shifts the cooler to one hand and uses the other to tug on his shorts. “I might change,” he says.

Nursey makes a small noise of disappointment. 

“They, uh,” Dex says. “They’re kind of riding up my ass? And also they don’t leave much to the imagination.”

They walk up the steps to the Haus. Nursey pulls his key out of his sock. “Do what makes you comfortable,” he says. They walk into the cool dimness of the entryway. “For the record, though--they look really good.”

Dex puts the cooler down. “You too,” he says, slowly turning towards Nursey.

“Beer,” Nursey says, stupidly. His higher-order brain functions seem to be slowly shutting themselves down.

“But first,” Dex says, “can I just--” He reaches out and touches the side of Nursey’s face lightly, with just the tips of his fingers.

“Yeah,” Nursey breathes. He’s not sure which of them kisses the other. It happens by mutual agreement, both their eyes drifting closed. Dex smells like sunscreen and sweat, and he tastes like beer.

The first kiss is tentative, but the second kiss goes on for longer, Nursey’s hands curved against the planes of Dex’s back.

“You in those shorts,” Nursey says.

Dex laughs and says, “ _You_ in those shorts,” and Nursey has to kiss the laughter out of his mouth.

They break apart several moments later. “So about the beer,” Nursey says. The beer can go fuck itself; he wants to keep kissing Dex. But he needs to give him an out.

“Screw the beer?” Dex says, voice lifting at the end.

“Good,” Nursey says, and leans in again. He lets his hands drift. Dex’s ass feels as good as it looks. Even better is the strangled sound he makes, half a groan, and the way he moves to straddle Nursey’s thigh. He pushes Nursey back against the wall.

“This isn’t comfortable,” Dex mutters.

Nursey drags his fingers along the waistband of the shorts. “Upstairs? Off?” _You’re supposed to be good with words._

Dex kisses him fiercely. “Yes.”

Nursey scrubs the back of his hand against his lips. “I’m going to trip if we try to go up the stairs attached at the mouth,” he says. He nudges the cooler with his foot, trying to get it out of the way, and almost falls over.

“Okay,” Dex says. He lifts his hands, smiling. “Hands off, see?”

Nursey rolls his eyes and starts up the stairs.

When the door closes behind them he’s suddenly shy again. “Hey,” he says.

Dex runs his fingers through his sweat-dampened red hair. “Hey.” 

Nursey grabs his biceps and pulls him in. “Where were we?”

“Talking about how hot you are,” Dex says. He kisses Nursey’s neck. “You taste like sunscreen.”

“Mmm, let me see if you do to.” Nursey nips at the column of Dex’s throat, and Dex’s head falls back. “You like that.”

“Yeah.” Dex grabs Nursey’s hips and pulls him in. Nursey puts his hands back on Dex’s ass. 

They kiss until Nursey is dizzy with it, keeping himself upright only because he’s leaning against the wall. “Bed? And also I can put on other clothes if you want me to, but I am going to stretch these shorts out of shape permanently--”

Dex cuts him off, kissing him sloppily. “Please take off your clothes.”

* * *

It’s even better when they’re on the bed, with the shorts forgotten on the floor, shirts discarded. Everything is skin against skin, all overwhelming sensation.

“Do you think they mind? About the beer?” Dex asks.

Nursey runs his thumb over the wet head of Dex’s cock. “I don’t care,” he says. He doesn’t understand how Dex can be thinking of their teammates right now.

“Me either.” Dex reaches down. “God.” He shivers. “I can get lube if you want it--”

Nursey jerks his hips, fucking up into Dex’s curled fingers. “Don’t need it,” he gasps. Dex twists his wrist. Nursey sinks his teeth into Dex’s collarbone. The bed creaks under their combined weight and they both ignore it.

“Good?” Dex asks.

“Ah, harder.” Nursey kisses him, clumsy and off-center. Dex tightens his grip. Nursey stops thinking.

“Don’t stop,” Dex says brokenly, and Nursey speeds up, even though his wrist is starting to ache. It’s a weird angle but Dex is making little gasps, beautiful broken sounds, and suddenly Nursey’s fingers are sticky and wet.

“Okay, stop,” Dex says, panting. 

Nursey props himself up on his elbow. “Good?”

“Asshole,” Dex says, but he’s smiling. “You didn’t--”

“Nah.” Nursey leans over and wipes his hand off on Dex’s shirt. Dex kisses him, then goes back to jerking Nursey off. He’s got the grip right, and the angle, but his speed is a bit too slow. 

“Better?” Dex asks.

“Faster,” Nursey says. Dex seals his lips against the side of Nursey’s neck, sucking a mark against his skin. Nursey comes with a gasp. His whole body feels lit up and alive, like a vibrating tuning fork, humming.

Dex leans down grabs Nursey’s shirt. He cleans his hand off and then lies back against the pillow. Nursey closes his eyes. When he opens his eyes, Dex is staring at him. 

“Possible buzzkill, but I want to know,” Dex says. “Is this just a one time, hookup thing, or--?”

“What do you want?” Nursey asks.

“Answer my question first.”

Nursey rolls over onto his side, facing Dex. “I literally write poetry about you.” Dex laughs. “I’m being serious,” Nursey says.

“I wasn’t laughing at you,” Dex says. He kisses Nursey. “I’m going to close my eyes to say this because it’s really fucking sappy.” He closes his eyes and Nursey stares at his ginger eyelashes. “If I could write poetry I would write poetry for you too.”

Nursey kisses him, then closes his eyes and rests his head on Dex’s shoulder.

* * *

“There’s the cooler,” Bitty says. “I wonder what happened to Dex and Nursey?”

Chowder says something inaudible and Bitty laughs. The staircase creaks with ascending footsteps.

Chowder taps on the door. “Are you decent?”

“Hang on,” Nursey calls. He gets up and pulls on a pair of boxers. There’s a clear bite mark on Dex’s collarbone. Dex puts on underwear and puts their discarded Spring C outfits in the laundry hamper. Dex lies back down on the bed with his head on Nursey’s pillow, curling himself into a tired ball. “Come in” Nursey says, flopping down on his bed next to Dex.

Chowder walks in and perches on the desk. “How was the rest of Spring C?” Most of his body paint has rubbed off--probably onto Cait’s white t-shirt.

“Good,” Nursey says. 

“Where’s Dex?” Chowder asks.

Dex sits up. “M’right here,” he says. “Hey Chowder.” He lies back down and appears to pass right back out. Nursey smiles down at him with stupid fondness.

Chowder’s gaze flicks between the two of them. He begins to grin. “I forgive you for not bringing us beer.”

“Good,” Nursey says. He laughs. “Thanks again, C.”

Chowder gets off the desk. “For what?”

“For the outfit idea.” Nursey smirks at him until Chowder lets out a crack of laughter. 

“I’m going to go now,” Chowder says. “Don’t break the bed. Use protection.”

“M’ _sleeping_ ,” Dex says. “Shush.” 

Chowder closes the door behind him. Nursey scoots down until he’s lying next to Dex. Orange, autumn, falling leaves, he thinks, and hides his smile against Dex’s hair. 

He’s so happy he feels like he could write poem, right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a pensive meditation about _poetry_ and _falling in love_...and it turned into something different. Fun times!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr [@parrishsrubberplant](http://parrishsrubberplant.tumblr.com/).


End file.
